


Time and Unlimited Party Supplies in Space.

by allonsytastic



Series: Whouffaldi Week 2017 [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, WhouffaldiWeek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsytastic/pseuds/allonsytastic
Summary: Entry #2 for Whouffaldi Week 2017. Today's prompt:Birthday party / "I will not let a cat do my make-up"





	

Another Wednesday - another adventure. Clara was ready for a trip into the vast expanse of outer space, possibly solving the odd ancient mystery of locking up some evil alien adversary.

But instead, when she merrily flung open the TARDIS' doors, crossing the threshold and striding into the console room - she found it decorated _(from the highest point of the gallery to the farthest corners of the lower deck)_ with _'Happy Birthday'_ paper chains, a variety o colourful banners and a frankly excessive amount of balloons assembled into shapes that vaguely resembled different _(alien)_ animals. The floor was littered with paper streamers and there was confetti _everywhere_. Completing the impression of an out-of-control children's birthday party, a slightly out-of-tune rendition of the _'Happy Birthday'_ -song was playing in the back.

The Doctor _(wearing a yellow-pink striped party hat over his tousled and confetti-strewn mop of hair)_ greeted her by enthusiastically hooting through one of those deafening party horns and joyfully yelling at her so she could hear him over the background music.

_"Clara! Happy 45th birthday!"_

To add to the ridiculousness of the situation, his face was painted in a horrible attempt at a sort of face painting for kids, reminding Clara of one of the worst birthday party experiences she'd had throghout her childhood. If she'd had to guess she would have said he was going for either orange tabby or orangutan, but she really couldn't tell which.

 

_"Look, Clara, I've got everything prepared. We can play 'Pin the tail to the Donkey', I have a bunch of materials for arts and crafting, we can do face painting and I even got you a cake!"_ At this, he pointed at a construct that vaguely resembled a three-tiered cream tart which inexplicably seemed to be moving on its own, slightly swaying from left to right on its plate in the rhythm of the music.

Clara slowly walked round the room and then, looking back over her shoulder at his _(tiger-striped?)_ appearance, she stated as matter-of-fact as she possibly could under these circumstances. _"I will **not** have my make-up done by a **cat**."_

_"Actually - it's not even my birthday. And just to clarify, if it **was** , it certainly wouldn't be my 45th."_

_"Are you sure? Because I'm usually pretty good with this sort of thing... I mean, it's really in the name with us **'Time Lords'**."_

_"Doctor, I've got my calendar right here. And I refuse to count that one trip to Tereleptos-5 as a **year** just because that stupid planet did a full revolution on its ridiculously tiny orbit while we were there."_

_"Oh._ He sounded thoroughly dejected - his voice was muted, his gaze cast down at his boots to avoid hers. _"I just thought you might like to celebrate your birthday with me."_

 

This wouldn't do. Seeing him crestfallen, slumped over and disheartened was more than Clara could bear after a long day of teaching.

_"Well, I mean we sort of missed at least a couple (of hundreds_ _) of_ _**your** birthdays, Doctor... if you'd like to party with me... Can't let that cake go to waste, after all..."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"As sure as death and taxes"_

He looked her, a mixture of hope and confusion expressed on his painted face.

_"Yes. Yes, I'm sure. It's an idiom. Now shut up and give me some cake."_   she grinned, wrapping him in a hug.


End file.
